Not There, Still Here: LGBTQ+ Faith Outside the Jubilee of Youth

Edoardo Zenone, 38, is an Italian gay Catholic and communications consultant who lives in Rome, Italy. For years he was part of the Focolare Movement, an international Catholic lay movement, founded in Italy in 1943 by Chiara Lubich. Rooted in a return to the Gospel as a concrete way of life, the movement stresses putting faith into daily practice so that it becomes a force for both personal and social transformation. Today, he serves on the committee of PAC (Progetto Adultə Cristianə LGBT+), a national network that brings together queer people of faith across Italy to pray, reflect and grow together.

In the following interview with Bondings 2.0 contributor Elisa Belotti, Edoardo recalls some of the major Church gatherings he has attended in his life, and he shares his reflections after closely following this year’s Jubilee Year events. His perspective challenges us to look not only at those who participate in such events, but also at those who, though they may long to be there, remain on the margins because of wounds, exclusion, or unwelcoming language.

Edoardo Zenone

You’ve been to the Jubilee of Youth in 2000 in Rome and to World Youth Day events in Cologne in 2005. What memories do you carry from those experiences?

In 2000 I was just 13, staying with some relatives in Rome, during the time of the Jubilee of Youth, so how could I not find a way to go and somehow take part? I remember the suffocating heat, but also Pope John Paul II in St. John Lateran Basilica responding to our chant of “Resta con no-o-i!” [Stay with us] with the same intonation: “De-vo an-da-re!” [I have to go].

At the evening vigil at Tor Vergata, a recreational space outside Rome where the Vatican hosted a large gathering of youth, I remember that I was so far away from the pope that I could only see him on a giant screen. At the end, a monsignor came on stage to take the pope back to the Vatican, but John Paul II waved his hands in the air, dancing with us, and replied: “Two more minutes!” This scene repeated itself three or four times and it was both amusing and moving. He was having a great time! He wanted to stay with us and we didn’t want to let him go.

In 2005, I was 18 and wanted to live the full experience: all 10 days. Unfortunately, the ecclesial movement I belonged to decided it would be a good idea for our members to attend WYD with a parish group. Shy as I was, I ended up in a community where I didn’t know anyone and I experienced the event almost entirely in loneliness.

By then I already knew my gay sexual orientation, but I wasn’t ready for a public coming out. Certainly not in a place like that! Yet during a prayer service I realized that I didn’t want to live with my head buried in the sand. I had a rainbow inside me that wanted to shine. I only had to discover how to do so and how to help others understand. 

When did you come out? What was the experience like?

Over the years, there have been many coming outs. For a queer person, they never really end. I can’t say for sure when the first one was because, fortunately, it was never a problem in my family or in my parish. My parents knew, my parish group knew, my Focolare group knew. And no one had anything to complain about.

It was only when I was 28 and living in Loppiano, a town of the Focolare Movement near Florence, that more than one person told me that homosexuality and faith cannot go together. As if God hadn’t known for 28 years that I was gay! That event became the driving force for a more public coming out, on a larger scale. I lost some people along the way and I knew it would not be long before I was pushed away from the Focolare Movement.

Looking back today, I’d say no harm was done. If they hadn’t pushed me away, but had instead asked me to live in hiding, I would never have had the experiences that kept me in the Church and led me to try to change it.

Why did you decide not to attend this year’s Jubilee of Youth?

Simply because I felt I was past the age for it. I’m 38 now. I’m not old, of course, but I’m not Gen Z either. This is their moment and it’s right that they have the chance to experience it among themselves, without nostalgic folks getting in their way. Yet I followed everything online, especially the vigil: from 4 to 10 p.m., I couldn’t take my eyes off the Vatican News YouTube livestream.

Why was it important for you to follow the vigil online? What were your impressions?

I have to say that with Pope Leo, I was waiting for something to happen. Of course, since he found himself presiding over a Jubilee event, his focus was on continuing the tradition of such an event without major changes. I followed the vigil at Tor Vergata with a bit of nostalgia:  I wanted to be there, even just through the livestream, to feel young again. I had a sense of expectation: I think that moment showed the true weight of this pope. I found everything traditional, reassuring, as if he was speaking more to the priests than to young people. It felt a lot like Benedict XVI.

I didn’t hear the lion’s roar, except for the few moments where he improvised  or when the camera caught him off the record, like when the popemobile stopped and looking slightly surprised and annoyed, he asked security why they weren’t going to the sectors he hadn’t yet visited.

Maybe we’ve become too accustomed to Francis and his bold, unexpected decisions. Or maybe Leo is more of a strategist. I still give him the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, regarding the Jubilee of Youth, I really think it’s important to talk not only about who was there, but also about who was absent.

Why do you say that it’s important to talk about who was absent?

If the Church wants to be faithful to its mission, it can’t only look at those who are already at its events. It must also keep close to heart the souls who are farther away. If we take the Gospel seriously, salvation is not for a small circle of perfect believers. And people who stay away don’t always do so by choice: sometimes the distance is imposed, other times it’s the result of wounds, exclusions or a language that pushes away instead of welcoming.

The Church defines itself as synodal, but it risks being synodal only for a few if it excludes those whose thinking, identity or sexual orientation differs from the majority. So we should ask ourselves: is it still the Church if it can’t walk alongside those who are different, who doubt, who don’t fit the standard? Because a Church that isn’t open to everyone, especially those furthest away, not only fails to fulfill the Gospel, but also ceases to be the Church in the true sense of the word.

Despite the challenges, what makes you stay an active member of the Church? What does being Catholic mean to you?

As I mentioned before, I was part of the Focolare Movement for a long time. In some ways, I am still involved, but that’s a long story for another time. What has always fascinated me is the practicality of what they propose. The Gospel should be lived, otherwise it’s just empty words. If you live the Gospel as fully as you can, the world truly changes. First and foremost, your own world and then, like a wave, it slowly widens in concentric circles.

I remain an active member of the Church because I received this teaching and I experienced its effectiveness. Without it, I would struggle much more to identify as Catholic. There have been moments and experiences that helped me grow in faith, teaching me to approach spirituality in a personal and responsible way, without being afraid to ask questions. The PGC (Progetto Giovani Cristianə LGBT+, Youth Christian LGBT+ Project) and the PAC (Progetto Adultə Cristianə LGBT+, Adult Christian LGBT+ Project) have played an important role in this journey. These are national networks across Italy that bring together queer people of faith to grow, discuss, pray and deepen our spirituality. Today, I am part of the PAC committee, helping to organize activities.

I now see myself as an adult gay man within the Church. It’s not an easy position. There are often tensions and searching, but also opportunities. My hope for the future is to see a more welcoming community, and I also think of the broader LGBTQ+ community, which often excludes believers. I dream of a community that knows how to listen and value the differences, where dialogue can happen without shame and where everyone can feel at home with both their faith and their identity. It may seem utopian right now, but I dream big!

—Elisa Belotti, New Ways Ministry, August 22, 2025